The Crooked Line.

The wheels of bureaucracy grind deep and slow enmeshing the simple man as he twists and writhes beneath the crushing vice, unable to avoid the spreading algae of greed and vice of those who are never satisfied. Even the straw he grasps drags him down Further into depths unknown From elite position he is crammed into Levels below, dark chasms, not fit for human existence. Crawling, begging, having lost everything He watches helplessly as fellowmen plummet and crash. Where is the hand to squash this vile, he wonders, to balance the scale of justice. When will every man get his fair share Why do the rich get richer.. the poor poorer. Looking through the window of time…will he ever find That soothing balm of equality and justice Or will his fate be ever decided by that crooked line that exists between greed and need?